


Crossing Lines

by eminwonderland



Series: Crossing Lines [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Real Person Fiction, Supernatural, Supernatural RPF, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bearded Chris Evans, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt Jensen Ackles, Jealous Jensen Ackles, Light Angst, Protective Chris, Sexual Content, Smut, chris evans smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 09:43:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17180582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eminwonderland/pseuds/eminwonderland
Summary: This is an AU where Jensen is a musician and he and the reader move to LA so he can pursue a music career. A new new neighbor moves into their building.  An up and coming actor named Chris.This is a four part series.





	Crossing Lines

2004, Los Angeles, CA

The setting sun casts a bright orange glow over the courtyard of your building. You glimpse the fading rays through your tiny kitchen window as you plug the sink and pour in some soap before turning on the faucet. You start scrubbing dishes when you notice Jensen’s crumb covered plate sitting to the right of the sink.

Sighing, you call to him, “Seriously, Jay?”

“What, babe?” he asks, coming up behind you and resting his hands on your hips.

“You couldn’t have gone another eight inches to the left?” you ask, gesturing to the plate.

“Hmm, eight inches. Is that all you need?” he whispers at the shell of your ear.

Electric currents race down your spine, settling at the base with a tingle.

“I’ve got more than eight, right here.” He brushes your hair to the side, kissing your exposed neck as he grinds against your ass. You arch into him and his hands slide up from your hips, caressing your breasts as you reach back, clasping your soapy hand around his neck. “How ‘bout I say thank you for washing the dishes?” He nibbles the side of your throat.

“Mmm.”

He turns you to face him, his lips capturing yours in a fervent kiss. Then you’re up on the counter, your shorts off, and he’s pushing himself between your thighs. You watch him as he mouths your mound through your panties. He looks up at you, his pupils wide, and gives you a wink. Then he’s pushing the lace aside and licking a wide stripe up to your swollen bud.

With a moan, you drop your head back onto the counter as his tongue swirls around your clit and his calloused fingers push their way inside. He knows exactly where to touch and how much pressure to use to send you over the edge and it’s exhilarating every time.

He works you faster, his fingers curling against that sensitive ridge inside as he sucks your clit between his full lips, flicking it with his expert tongue.

“Fuck, Jay, I’m gonna come,” you say, squeezing your thighs around his face.

Your legs shake and your whole body shudders as the pleasure rolls through you. When you finally come down he stands, pulling your panties off and pushing his jeans and boxers down. You try to steady yourself as he springs free, but your head lolls back as he glides through and bottoms out with a groan.

He fills you perfectly, and you revel in the stretch as your body accommodates him. He grips your hips as he slowly drags out; your walls are still sensitive and fluttering already. You watch him as he sets the pace, plunging into you with slow and easy thrusts. You need more friction, so you slide your hands up and down his strong, tattooed arms before gripping his wrists.

He knows what you want and quickens his paces. You slide your hands back down, slipping one finger over your clit. You circle and flick your bud as he fucks you. His hungry eyes watch you and soon you’re close. You both move faster until you’re over the edge. You clench around his him as your orgasm rips through you. The spasms send him over the edge and he comes, hips stuttering before he stiffens.

“Fuck! Y/N!”

He drops down onto you, chest heaving, and you lie there catching your breath, reveling in the afterglow. After a moment he pops up. “How’s that for a thank you?” he asks, pulling up his pants with a grin.

“I guess it’ll do,” you smirk.

“You guess?” He feigns offense, then he picks you up and carries you down the short hall to your bedroom. He drops you onto the bed with a bounce and crawls over you. “Let’s make that ‘I guess’ a definitely,” he says, dipping down to kiss you. You break the kiss and look up at him.

“How much time you got?” you raise an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve got all the time in the world, Y/N.” He kisses you again, more urgently, then breaks away. “Oh, shit! No, I don’t. Fuck, I gotta go, babe!”

“Ok,” you say, laughing. “When you get back then.”

“Definitely.” Jensen winks at you, then he jets out.

Normally you go with him when his band plays, but you have to work an early shift tomorrow so you have to stay home and sleep.

 

The next morning you wake up, shower, careful to be quiet so you don’t wake Jensen, then you head to work. He is sitting on the couch playing his guitar when you come home that afternoon.

“Hey, Y/N. How was work?”

“Good,” you say, pecking him on the cheek. “How was last night?” you ask as you walk down the hall.

You’re changing out of your work clothes when he comes in. He’s smiling like he’s got a secret.

“What’s up?”

“We booked a gig last night.” Now he’s smiling so wide his face might crack.

“Really?!” you squeal, jumping into his arms. “With who?”

“We’re gonna be opening for Snow Patrol for their West Coast concert dates,” he says, lowering you back to the ground.

“Oh my god, Jay! That is amazing!”

“Yeah, the guys are stoked. The first is in Seattle and we leave in a few days.”

“I’m so happy for you, babe.” You pull him down for a kiss. “But I’m gonna miss you.”

Jensen pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. “I’m gonna miss you too. But we’ll talk every day, and in four weeks I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” you say looking up at him. “I’m really proud of you, Jay.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” He leans down, capturing your mouth in a kiss once again.

—-

A few days later you’re hanging out at the pool after work; home is really boring without Jay around. The door to the apartment a few doors down from yours opens and out walks the new tenant. He moved in last month and you’ve seen him in passing, but you haven’t had a chance to meet him yet.

He’s tall, not quite as tall as Jensen, dark hair and, wow, well muscled arms and chest. You quickly look down as he makes his way to the pool in board shorts and flip flops. He kicks them off and dives into the pool. He comes up a few feet away from you.

“Hey, I haven’t met you yet. I’m Chris,” he says, with a grin. “I’m in 3A, obviously.”

“Y/N.” You laugh, holding out your hand. “Nice to meet you. We’re in 6A.”

“We?”

“Yeah, me and my boyfriend, Jensen.”

“Ah, where’s he?” he asks, swimming away.

“He’s on tour right now. His band is opening for Snow Patrol.”

“Really? That’s awesome. Why aren’t you with him?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions. But if you must know it’s ‘cause I’ve got a job that I can’t just abandon.”

“Oh, right,” he laughs. It’s joyful and endearing.

“So, what do you do?”

“I’m an actor,” he says, sheepishly.

“Oh yeah? Have you been in anything I would’ve seen?”

“Not yet, but I just booked my first movie.”

“Congratulations!” Your phone buzzes; it’s your alarm. “Shit, sorry. I gotta go to work.”

“Bye, it was nice meeting you, Y/N.”

“You too, Chris.”

For the rest of the week you keep running into Chris; at the pool, in the laundry room, once while you’re out getting groceries. Most nights when you’re relaxing by the pool you see him coming home with a girl, and it’s never the same girl. You laugh to yourself, thanking god that you have Jensen and that you no longer have to deal with guys like Chris. He’s cute, no doubt, and a whole lot of trouble.

—-

Your phone is ringing. You startle awake and look at the clock - 3 am. You grab your phone and Jensen’s name flashes across the screen. Panic grips you as you answer the call.

“Y/N?” he croaks.

“Jensen? Are you ok? What’s going on?”

“I fucked up,” he slurs.

“Are you ok?”

“No.”

“What happened?” You sit up, turning on the bedside lamp.

“I fucked up.”

“You said that, Jay. What is it?”

“I, I, fuck. I fucked someone.”

The entire world stops. You forget how to breathe. You’re sure you misheard him.

“What did you say?”

“I fucked someone,” he says, sobbing.

“What the hell are you saying, Jensen?” Your stomach is ice and snakes.

“We were out and this chick was all over me and I missed you and, fuck, I just needed… I don’t know…”

“Is Rob there?” you ask, choking back the tears.

“Yeah.”

“Is he awake?” You feel like you weigh ten thousand pounds.

“Yeah.”

“And is he more sober than you?”

“Yeah.”

“Give him the phone.”

“Ok.”

“Y/N?” Rob asks.

“What the fuck’s going on, Rob?”

“Shit, Y/N. I’m sorry, I’ve been keeping an eye on him for you, but I was with some chick-”

“It’s fine, get him some water and get him to bed.”

“I will.”

“And have him call me in the morning, when he’s not drunk.”

“I will.”

You end the call, staring at your phone.

“Fuck!” you scream. You throw your phone, then pull the covers over your head and cry.

You don’t really sleep, though when you do you dream of Jensen, surrounded by groupies. The next morning you’re exhausted when Jay calls and tries to explain what happened. After having the night and morning to think about it, you tell him that you need your space.

“Ok, babe, whatever you need. I love you so much, Y/N. I’m so sorry, I was a goddamn idiot.”

“I’ll call you later,” is all you can say before you hang up the phone.

The rest of the day is spent sleeping or drinking as you bury your hurt and anger. That night you stumble out to the pool, still clutching a bottle of whiskey in your hands. You plop down at the edge, dangling your feet into the cool water. You sit, watching the water make little waves as you circle your feet around and around. You’re lost in your sad, lonely world when a joyful laugh breaks the silence. You look up and there’s Chris, amazingly alone, walking over to you.

“Y/N!” he calls. “What’re you doing?” he asks, dropping down next to you. His feet, shoes and all, go into the water right next to yours. “Oops,” he giggles.

“You’re drunk,” you say, unable to hide your moodiness.

“And you’re sad and drunk. What’s wrong sad, drunk Y/N?”

“Nothing,” you snap. You take a moment, because it’s not his fault Jensen fucked some random groupie chick. “Sorry, it’s nothing.”

“I don’t like seeing you sad. Beautiful girl like you should be happy,” his blue eyes focus and they’re staring into yours. He tucks your hair behind your ear, his gaze still locked on you. He leans towards you. You lean back hastily, pushing off the ground and getting to your feet.

“I should go,” you say, turning toward your apartment.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Chris says, grasping your arm. “I just, you’re so beautiful, and I didn’t want you to be sad.”

“It’s ok, but I gotta go.”

“If you were with me I’d never let you be sad.” He stands up and walks after you.

“Says the guy who brings home a different girl every night,” you laugh dryly.

“Not, tonight,” he says, stepping closer to you.

“But probably tomorrow,” you say, looking up at him. “Goodnight.” You turn away and head to your apartment.

“Goodnight,” he calls after you.

—-

The next night you’re lounging by the pool, yet again, when Chris comes into the courtyard.

“Y/N! Feeling better?”

“I guess so. How are you?”

“Good. Hey I was just gonna grab a beer. You want one?”

“Sure.”

He comes back out with two beers and gives one to you before sitting down, making sure to kick off his flip flops before putting his feet into the pool.

“So, you ready to talk about whatever was making you sad yesterday?”

“No.”

“Well, my mom always says better out than in. You gotta let those feelings go, otherwise they’ll drag you down.”

“Yeah? I still don’t feel like talking about it.”

“When you’re ready I’m here,” he says, gingerly taking the beer bottle from your hand. “But in the meantime…” He pushes you into the pool. You pop up, pushing your hair back from your face as he dives in.

“You dick!” You laugh as he comes up out of the water.

“Hey, a little distraction is also good for those shitty times.” He laughs and your heart feels lighter. His eyes stay on you as you tread water. “So, what are you doing tonight?

“This, apparently.”

“You wanna get some takeout and watch a movie?”

You know you should say no. Responsible you is saying get out and go back to the apartment. Mad, revenge-driven you is saying, YES go for it!

“Sure, what movie?”

“I’ve got a bunch. Get some dry clothes while I pick up the food. I’ll meet you at my place in half an hour.”

“Ok,” you say, climbing out of the pool.

Forty minutes later, you’re sitting on his couch watching “Shaun of the Dead” and eating Chinese food. You reach over to grab your beer and the takeout box tips over. Noodles go everywhere.

“Shit!”

Chris grabs some napkins and you work together to clean up the mess. As you grab for another napkin, you smack foreheads.

“Ouch! Sorry!”

“It’s ok,” he says, looking down at you.

He leans in and you don’t lean away. His crystal blue eyes fill your vision, asking you for permission, and he must see it because he closes the remaining distance capturing your mouth with his. His lips are soft and warm, but his tongue is cool from the beer. His hands slide around your waist pulling, you closer as your hands move up his neck and into his hair. Butterflies flutter in your stomach making you feel like a feather as your body molds to his.


End file.
